


Processor Over Frame

by Dorksidefiker



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 04:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13310649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: There was something absolutely humiliating about being cuffed servo and pede and chained to the wall.





	Processor Over Frame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron/gifts).



> My obligatory Pirate AU, as suggested by Iron!
> 
> This one will probably see a few updates, depending on how inspiration strikes.

There was something absolutely humiliating about being cuffed servo and pede and chained to the wall. _That's the point,_ Thunderclash reminded himself. _Bring me low and break my spirit._ Rolling his shoulders, he tested how much freedom he had of his cell. Not much, he knew, but he had nothing better to do than test again. He could _almost_ make it to the middle of the cell.

He tested the stasis cuffs next, again, not for the first time. They hummed ominously, threatening to shock him if he tries to spread them too far apart. The same was true of the cuffs around his ankles, and the magrope that bound both sets of cuffs together had no give at all, and was too short for a mech of his size. His back struts curved to accommodate his short leash, making him ache as he was left there in the brig. Thunderclash rolled his helm and invented slowly. One good hard jerk, he decided. All he had to do was power through the pain. He could do it, he was certain. It was just a matter of processor over frame.

Only the sound of the guards at the other end of the brig snapping to attention stopped Thunderclash from trying right then. He raised his helm, red optics narrowed as he watched the captain of the Lost Light, possibly the most infamous pirate operating this side of the Decepticons, saunter through the brig.

Red and gold armor had been polished to a high shine, drawing attention to a fine, thin face framed by delicate finials and dominated by bright blue optics. Biolights drew the optic to long legs that ended in narrow hips and a pinched in waist, but Thunderclash found his gaze drawn back to the pirate's face.

Rodimus of Nyon turned off the force field to the cell, leaning against the wall with a smirk and crossing his legs in a way that made them look impossibly long.

"For someone who's supposed to be the greatest Autobot ever, you're _really_ easy to catch."

Thunderclash tried to look dignified, raising his helm further to glare at the pirate.

_They really are Matrix Blue._

Rodimus' smirk never wavered. He swaggered forward, leaving close enough that Thunderclash could smell the cheap polish he used.

"There's a hell of a bounty for you, big guy. Lucky for _you_ ," Rodimus pressed a finger under Thunderclash's chin, tilting his helm back further, "you're worth more alive than dead. Guess Optimus Prime wants his favorite trophy case back in one piece."

"Optimus places a premium on loyalty to his people. Not that you'll have a chance to enjoy your bounty." Thunderclash summoned his most disapproving look. "Crime may pay well for a moment, but it will run through your fingers like oil."

Rodimus laughed, tweaking Thunderclash's nose. "It'll last long enough," he promised, letting Thunderclash's helm drop and giving the top a fond pat, like a favorite petro-rabbit. "So you just sit pretty, mm? Be a good boy. Wouldn't want you getting dented before we make the delivery."

Rodimus turned away with saucy swing of his hips, locking the cell behind him.

Thunderclash tested his bonds again, watching until Rodimus of Nyon was out of sight.

_I'll show you how good I am._


End file.
